


And you played it to the beat (tears are gonna fall)

by papergraffiti



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Episode Related, F/M, Heartbreak, Missing Scene, Post 3x07, Romance, Songfic, Spoilers for Episode 3x07 Draw Back Your Bow, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 11:10:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2649881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papergraffiti/pseuds/papergraffiti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 3x07, spoilers for "Draw Back Your Bow." </p><p>Felicity thinks about both of the men who pushed her away that night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And you played it to the beat (tears are gonna fall)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [yaycoffee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/yaycoffee/) for the lightning fast beta, and for holding my hand while I post my first fic in a very, very long time.

Felicity unlocked the door to her apartment, trying to balance her clutch and her laptop bag along with the open container of mint chocolate chip ice cream, plastic spoon already sticking out of the top. Couture be damned, a night like this called for immediate emergency ice cream. If anybody thought it was weird that she was digging into a pint of Ben and Jerry’s at a stop light, well…they’ve never made out with their hot new boss on the same night their ex-boss decided an open communication line was the appropriate venue for a heartfelt confession.

She threw her keys into the bowl by the door and flipped on the living room light, setting down the ice cream long enough to put up her bags and slip out of her heels. Her whole body felt like it was running hot, the remembered brand of Ray’s lips on hers making a flush steal over her face and down her neck, where the weight of millions of dollars’ worth of diamonds still ghosted over her skin.

He was already practically perfect. ( _And totally her type._ ) It wasn’t fair that he was such a good kisser. It also wasn’t fair that she felt a little bit guilty for enjoying it.

 _Do what you want,_ Oliver told her. Isn’t that what she was doing? Well, not completely. She wanted to move on, be happy, kiss Ray. Ray would be good for her, she knew that. He challenged her and supported her and celebrated her, and she wanted to love and be loved by a man who was that proud to have her by his side.  

But she also wanted to walk into the lair and punch Oliver in the mouth right before kissing the hurt away from his stubborn lips. She wanted to have family dinners with Digg and Roy and Lyla and baby Sara, with Oliver curling his arm around her waist and leaning his chin on top of her head. She wanted to have the right to push the hood from his face, take off his mask, and remind him that Starling City wasn’t the only thing that was worth saving.

Digg meant well, Felicity knew that, but having him tell her that Oliver was jealous and yearning pulled at something inside her, some hidden little wellspring of hope that he would change his mind. That’s why it hurt more than she wanted to admit to sit there, at his beck and his demand, guiding him through danger only to hear him tell a stranger how noble and lonely and stupid he was.

He needed her, but he pushed her away, and yet she still came when he called her. ( _Except at the hospital—then she walked away to save them both._ ) She walked through fire for him, faced down her worst fears because he believed in her strength, and yet he still thought that he had the right to decide what was best for her, for them. Maybe she was stupid, too. She wanted to think that their friendship was a solid enough bond to survive the heartbreak, but she didn’t know how many more times she could face that hurt, angry gaze and not lose her mind. Not when she was the one who had the right to be angry.

“That is enough, Felicity,” she muttered, reaching for the pint. “Time for a little therapy.”

She stuck a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth as she opened the music app on her phone, thumbing through the tracks until she found the one she wanted and hit play, the opening riffs crackling out of the wireless speaker on the bookshelves.

She swayed in place for the first few bars, feeling the silken hush of her dress against her legs. She felt beautiful tonight, like she was worth all the things Ray told her she deserved—the things she knew she deserved. It was nice, after everything that had happened, to enjoy the simple pleasures of a date and a dress. But even as she blushed under his admiring attention, melted into his kiss, shivered at the memory of his embrace…when she closed her eyes against the music, she saw Oliver’s face instead, standing in front of her at the mansion and laying her soul bare with three words.

_I can’t help thinking that we almost had it all._

The chorus swelled into a driving beat and it poured through her, making her turn and slide on the polished hardwoods.  _We could have had it all._ What would have happened if Ray hadn’t pushed her away? If she’d given into the temptation to slide his jacket off those muscular shoulders ( _they don’t have anything on Oliver’s_ ) and let him lay her across her ( _Oliver’s_ ) desk, peeling away the couture and letting the diamonds glitter across her bared skin?

 _You held my heart inside of your hands_. What would have happened had Oliver changed his mind the moment their lips finally touched? If he realized that she would always run toward the danger with him, no matter what they meant to each other, and decided that he needed her—that she was worth it—too much to walk away? If they had given in to the unthinkable and finally completed the sparking circuit between their hearts?

_We could have had it all._

Felicity swung her head in an arc, feeling her hair come loose around her face and stick to the wetness that trickled steadily down her cheeks. She didn’t know what she was crying about—the tortured man who loved her too much to stay, the good man who might never be enough, or the quiet dreams that seemed to shatter around her before they could ever come true. So she twirled and twirled, giving in to the dizzy rush of the spin, and just let the tears fall.


End file.
